(X) Life is

Between collapsibility to resilience
is Life...

(IX) Life is

Between Perception and Self-Discovery 
is Life...

(VII) Life is

Between first glimpse and the last meeting 
is Life...

(VI) Life is

 
Between search and long wait
is Life...

(V) Life is

Between defeat and the next fight
is Life...

(IV) Life is

Between my name and its echo 
is Life...

(III) Life is

Between Never and Always 
is Life...

(I) Life is

Between curiosity and hesitation 
is Life...

(II) Life is

Between fear and dreams
is Life...

The smoldering Sun

The Sun 
burns the whole day
smolders during the dusk
scatters ash.

The nights hence
continue to fall...

Life- At the Start or the End

Probably Life starts after all the miracles have extinguished

Probably Life is more about what happens after the story ends

Probably what we are taught to read as the Start is actually the End… 

P.S. I am not going to believe that it is midway. Don't tell me so.

Addiction

- Elizabeth Gilbert 

Addiction is the hallmark of every infatuation-based love story.  It all begins when the object of your adoration bestows upon you a heady, hallucinogenic dose of something you never even dared to admit that you wanted –an emotional speedball, perhaps, of thunderous love and roiling excitement. 
Soon you start craving that intense attention, with the hungry obsession of any junkie. When the drug is withheld, you promptly turn sick, crazy and depleted ( not to mention resentful of the dealer who encouraged this addiction in the first place but who now refuses to pony up the good stuff anymore—despite the fact that you know he has it hidden somewhere…because he used to give it to you for free).  Next stage finds you skinny and shaking in a corner, certain only that you would sell your soul or rob your neighbors just to have that thing even one more time. 
Meanwhile, the object of your adoration has now become repulsed by you.  He looks at you like you’re someone he’s never met before, much less someone he once loved with high passion. 
The irony is, you can hardly blame him.  I mean, check yourself out.  You’re a pathetic mess, unrecognizable even to your own eyes.  So that’s it.  You have now reached infatuation’s final destination—the complete and merciless devaluation of self.

Please don't take it personal

I had been watching myself. 
Finally today, I stood up and said, "I am ready".
So, I am speaking about it, now. 

Here is what Life has taught me during this 'non-personal' time. 21 days summed up in 7 lessons (and more to come, as usual)- 

Lesson 1- Hope is the most stubborn weed. It is an obstinate child with a non-violent temper. I dare you get rid of it!

Lesson 2- Eventually all pains and happiness will dumped in one box called 'memories'. And the box doesn't have two compartments. You'll mix them both and treat them alike.  

Lesson 3- Solitude is the darkest truth about humans. It is inescapable. 

Lesson 4- Self-love is the crudest form of love. And we confuse it with selfishness. We have to learn to be by our side and stop punishing ourselves, even if we are taking time to forgive ourselves in the beginning. 

Lesson 5- Guilt is glutinous, whereas self-confidence is frictional. 

Lesson 6- The Time is not defined (read confined) by its superlativeness. It is an independent element.

Lesson 7- Each time you'd sit for a 'sagar manthan' session within your mind after an unpleasant incident or a dram-come-true experience, and churn your thoughts or scrape your memories; no matter how much anguish, pain, grudges or repentance oozes out of it, you will see that eventually everything evaporates, leaving you with only and only Love and Kindness (and not to mention the omnipresent Hope).

Lesson 8- Exactly how they phrase it at the time of Exit Interviews "Please don't take it personal" while they rephrase it no differently. Likewise, Life this time, said to me with a smile "Excuse me, Ma'am....Please don't take this personal". 

Good times and Bad Times

Good times and Bad times

are just shadows of each other;

A thin mirror in between

facing the Sun

determines Your side of the time;

And in front of this thin layer of mirror, stands You.

Destination

Does it also happen to you:
When you mix up your journey and destination 
And then you can't make out- which one is which one...

Recovering from Bad Time

Writing instead of typing

A 10 years' old Debt paid off

A surprise sale where Anil and Ali are treated alike

Ten years ago, something happened that left a permanent deficit in my Karma Account.

While driving in a crowded street, as I hurried my way to my examination centre, a guy crossing the road appeared out of nowhere and my speeding bike hit his bicycle and threw its wheels up in the air, disfiguring it permanently. Thankfully, none got hurt.

In India, at road accidents people assume the responsibilities that the government has entrusted to the Police. Hence everyone around you is a policeman and has the right to reprimand.

With my exam starting in next 15 minutes, and I being the witness of my own crime, I acted like a coward while saving myself from the public-police-squad and instead of helping the poor guy, I ran away from the scene.

As I drove past the brown haired guy whose life-line I just crashed, I had a look at his face- a tall fair young guy in his twenties with expressive eyes. His dirty clothes and dirty hands said the story of his burdensome life and with a meek look, he accepted the recent burden I just loaded him with. He picked up the leftover and with other workers walked in the other direction. 

As I kept driving and watching the scene in the rear mirror to see if the crowd was chasing me, I saw that there was no public action. You know why? Because it wasn’t me who was guilty here, but the guy on the bicycle. His crime- his poverty. If the situation had been otherwise- he being not poor, the public would have scratched every inch of my skin on the road. So yeah, I was safe.

I appeared for my exam, came back home but never shared this incident with anyone. But this kept  drilling every corner of my existence. I hated myself for the ‘inaction’ on my part and the pain never subsided.

I learnt a new feature of ‘regret’ during this decade. It never fades. Time doesn’t heal a regret. And probably nothing can. Until you decide to forgive yourself. Hence, I decided to forgive myself on the condition that I reverse my ‘inaction.

I decided to donate a bicycle to a needy. But the real question that popped up was as to how to recognize a needy. In Punjab where the whole state is suffering from the abuse of drugs, where drug addicts even steal public properties and sell them off for money- who would that be who genuinely needs a bicycle. To which, Mom suggested a brilliant idea.

While passing across a construction site, Mom asked a bunch of laborers if anyone needed a second hand bicycle that she knew was on sale. A very young guy came forward and asked her the details of the price, model etc. It was then, she declared that it was a ‘true needy’.

Today, we fixed the ‘surprise sale’ date and bought him a bicycle.

I was curious to know more about him. He is from Muradabad where his debt-laden father works as a mason in a Hindu-Muslim disturbed area, taking care of his 6 other siblings, none of which has ever been to school. He is new to the city and travels 15km on foot for his work to earn USD 4 per day as a daily wager. 

I didn't want to color my liberation in saffron or green so I didn't ask his name, but took a promise from him- never to sell this but in case he wanted to discard it, to give it for free to another needy. He promised back- he'll respect the 'gift'. The stupid guy thought that that it was a gift from me to him. 

A gleam of light hit his face when he touched his ‘first bicycle’ ever. The smile on his face as if eased my ten year old pain.

I am sharing this incident not to prove that what I did was great, but to suggest that it is possible to liberate yourself from the imprisonment of any form of regret that you might be living with. Reverse the inaction. Free yourself!

P.S. Now I know what Khalid Hosseini meant in 'Kite Runner'.

Life- A Winter's Day

“Our Life is nothing but a Winter's day;

Some only break their Fast, and so away:

Others stay to Dinner, and depart full fed:

The deepest Age but Sups, and goes to Bed:

He's most in debt that lingers out the Day:

Who dies soonest, has less, and less to pay.”

―Francis Quarles

Mom and Whatsapp

Some topic make you think "I must write about this". This is that one.

While I am panting in my pants in the meeting room to meet the chairman, I get a call on whatsapp.
Me: Hi Mom, anything urgent?
Mom- "Yeah. I wanted to know how to forward jokes on Whatsapp"

Here, I wish to share "Mom's Whatsapp Logics"-

1. Social Pressure: 
● Mommy, it is 5:00 am your time. How come you are online so early.
● If I reply messages later, people will think that I got up late today.

2. Whatsapp bitching: 
● Mommy, how is Rita Aunty these days?
● Huh! that woman has changed now. Earlier she used to forward jokes on my number separately now she simply sends them on our new Kitty-Ladies whatsapp group.

3. Good Morning messages: 
● Mommy, you don't need to send me 15 different cup-plate/blooming flowers good morning messages every morning. 
● Huh! I am not selfish to share them only with others while my daughter doesn't get any.

4. Opinions: 
● Mommy, shall I buy this bed-sheet.. is it worth 500$?
● Yes, Nikki, Sheela and 22 others like it.

5. Selfies:
● Mommy, sent you pics. Which skirt suits me best- green, blue or red
● You look good in all. I have uploaded them all on Facebook

6. Profile picture:
● Mommy, no one puts 'good morning message' as his/her Whatsapp profile picture. 
● Huh! I do 
● @$&*)&$@@$%

And the list continues.....